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ninzied · 6 years

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in which karen becomes a reluctant cat owner. in a post-dds3 world with spoilers for tps2. written for kastle valentine 2019.

It wakes her up in the middle of the night.

She’d been dreaming of Fisk again – the cold hate in his eyes as he towered above her, so sharp he could snap her in two without even moving a finger. During the day, it’s easy to remind herself that he’s back behind bars where he belongs. That she’s safe. That even if that stops being the case, she’s still nowhere near helpless; she knows how to take care of herself.

The dreams are always another story.

She squints into the dark of her ceiling, things still trying to take some kind of shape in her mind. There’d been a gun this time, on the table between them. She’d been reaching, only to find her hands suddenly tied back behind her chair…

Karen’s dozing off when she hears it again.

Scratch, scratch. Scratch, scratch.

It’s louder this time, more insistent. Any notion of sleep has now left her, and she sits bolt upright in her bed, ears straining.

It’s coming from her window.

She’s halfway to the drawer with her gun when the scratching fades, and for a moment there’s nothing but wind, and the faint sounds of late-night traffic below. And then—

Mew.

[read more below or continue on ao3.]

It’s clear, and plaintive, and “You've got to be kidding me,” Karen groans, throwing on a robe before padding her way over to the windowsill.

There, perched on the other side, with slow-blinking grey orbs and a thick coat of black fur, is a cat staring back at her.

“Okay,” says Karen. “Hi, I guess.”

She’s always been more of a dog person. But the thing is so small and forlorn, it’s probably freezing outside, and who can hold her accountable for bad choices made after 2AM anyway, so she unlatches the window and cracks it half-open.

“Do you want to come in or not?” sighs Karen when the cat only sits there and blinks at her some more. “Going once…twice…” She steps away from the window to give it more room to decide. A breeze works its way in, and she shivers, firmly closing the front of her robe.

The cat gazes at her a second longer, and just when Karen’s about to give up and call it a night, it slinks a paw inside, patting around as though feeling things out, before leaping onto the floor. One of its hind legs, she notices, is shorter than the others, giving it an odd little sway as it walks, but its movements are otherwise steady, assured.

By the time Karen’s closed her window and turned back around, the cat is nowhere to be seen, save for a blur of possible movement near the foot of her coffee table.

“Please, make yourself at home,” she speaks into the semi-darkness. There’s a faint but unmistakably smug-sounding yowl from the general vicinity of her couch cushions, and Karen trudges back to her own bed, half-hoping that when she wakes up in the morning, this will all have turned out to be some very strange dream.

…

“You got a cat?” asks Matt the next day, and she curses his sense of super-smell, the hint of amusement as he quirks his head in her direction.

“More like the cat got me,” grumbles Karen, making a beeline for the kitchenette without bothering to dump her things off at her desk. All the coffee in the world isn’t going to wake her up from this nightmare, that apparently she’s become one of those people. Those people who give off the impression of owning a cat.

“I tried to get us a cat once,” Foggy pipes up. “But Marci said over her dead body, so I decided not to press the issue.”

“I would gladly let you take this one off my hands.” Karen sips her coffee, leaning into the wall for a moment. “Matt…you seem like a cat person.”

Matt’s face twitches with a smile. “I don’t know whether I should be insulted or flattered.”

“Oh, I do,” says Foggy helpfully, before turning back to Karen as she treks slowly over to her desk. “Why don’t you drop him off at a shelter or something? The cat, I mean. Not Matt. Of course.”

“Of course,” echoes Matt, with a shake of his head.

“Seriously, though. They could help find him a good home. One that doesn’t have to be yours, if you don’t want it to be.”

“Her,” Karen corrects absentmindedly. “It’s a her. I think.” She sets down her mug, picks up the day’s Bulletin that Foggy’s made a habit of bringing in for her. She should grab some more bread from the store on her way home. The cat had gone through her last loaf earlier that morning.

“So what do you have against them, anyway?” Matt’s thumbing through case files, still looking faintly entertained by the whole situation.

Karen turns to the crime beat section, her old stomping grounds. The headlines rush together, no particular names standing out. She breathes again, and shrugs to Matt, “Nothing against them. They just don’t happen to be dogs.”

“Fair enough,” says Foggy. “Though I had this one cat growing up and sometimes I swear you could not tell the difference.”

“They have zero loyalties to anything, apart from themselves. And they’ll walk all over you if you let them.” She frowns at the memory of trying to shoo the cat back outside that morning, the look of disdain she’d gotten in return before the cat jumped onto her bed and made herself comfortable there.

“Some might call that self-sufficient.”

“And I saw a study once suggesting that most cats recognize the sound of their owner’s voice over a stranger’s, but only ten percent of them actually bother to acknowledge it.” Not that she'd planned on naming the thing or testing out any part of this theory.

“Nothing against them, you said?” Matt asks her in an innocent tone.

“You know,” says Foggy, “if I were to die suddenly, just keel over in my living room one day, and my cat had to starve – let’s say, for argument’s sake, that Marci’s, I don’t know, she actually made good on her threat if I got one – I would not blame it for eventually needing to eat both of our bodies.”

“Cats wait on average fewer days than other pets do under those circumstances.”

“I thought we were on the same side here, Matt.”

“Doesn’t matter anyway,” groans Karen, dropping her forehead into her hands. “I can’t leave her at a shelter. She has this gimpy back leg. Nobody’s going to want to take her.”

“Shame,” Foggy says mildly. “Wonder how this story ends?”

…

She takes the cat to the vet. On the unlikely chance that the cat’s been chipped and belongs to someone (she doesn’t), and to get that leg checked out while they’re at it (healed from a bad break that had never been properly tended to).

She tells herself she’ll give it one week, max, to figure something out. Something more permanent, that doesn’t involve cat litter strewn all over her bathroom, claw marks on the sides of her couch, and more than one broken glass that she shouldn’t have left on the counter.

At least she has an excuse not to think about buying flowers for her windowsill anymore.

Karen tells herself all of this until they’ve left the vet a second time, with a schedule for catch-up vaccines and a two hundred dollar bill that’s telling her otherwise: this cat is now hers, whether she likes it or not.

She’s never been more grateful for Matt’s heightened senses, when it saves her the trouble of having to admit it out loud. To his credit, he breathes not a word, though she doesn’t miss the way his mouth turns up at the corner sometimes when she re-pockets her emergency lint roller, or starts cutting out coupons for Petco in the Bulletin ads.

And Foggy's only comment, after a few weeks of staying silent on the matter: “So when can I come meet your new girl?”

…

They fall into an easy routine.

The cat is the first thing she sees in the morning, sharp little paws kneading relentlessly into the blankets until Karen finally rolls out of bed with a groan. She’s stationed by the door when Karen returns from the office every late afternoon – sometimes late evening, depending – winding herself around Karen’s legs, tripping her up and loudly asking for food in the same breath.

She’ll never admit it, but it’s…kind of nice, to have this small ball of comfort, curled warmly beside her at night. Nudging a cold, wet nose in her ear when she falls asleep with the TV still on. Ignoring her, too, on days when she simply can’t be bothered, sitting by the window with a prowling gaze on the squirrels and pigeons instead.

It’s quiet, and the quiet is something Karen wants so badly to count on. To believe that the noise can be over, that maybe her ‘after’ can be something as simple as coming home to a stray that’s decided it belongs with her there.

The dreams come less frequently now, and it’s nice, to be able to sleep through the night again.

Karen still doesn’t know what to call her, which appalls Foggy more than anyone else. But none of the things he suggests sound quite right to her, and she keeps stalling, saying she’s sure the inspiration will come at some point.

“What are you waiting for?” Matt finally speaks up, without judgment, only a gentle curiosity to his tone, and Karen wishes she knew how to answer him.

…

When his name starts showing up in the papers again, Karen’s running late for work. The cat had hurled up a hairband at breakfast, and as an apology for showing up probably smelling like vomit, Karen had grabbed bagels on her way in.

Something’s wrong the moment she walks through the door. Matt’s back is to her, but it stiffens at unnaturally sharp angles before she’s even opened her mouth to greet them, Foggy doing his level best not to betray anything in his own expression.

“Did you know?” Matt asks without turning, an accusation in every word.

Karen shakes her head, bewildered. She’s still standing in the doorway, bag limp at her side. “Know what?”

Foggy meets her gaze from his desk in the corner. “Frank,” he says, and it feels as though all the air has been sucked out of the room, her chest burning with things that she’d long thought snuffed out. “Frank Castle is back.”

…

His face is splashed all over news outlets, every bit as battered and bruised as Karen last saw it so long ago, as their bodies swayed together in that elevator stopped between moments in time. She wonders, in all the months that have passed since then, whether he’s known any peace – any healing – or if the bleeding’s never stopped.

He’s wearing the vest as he charges down streets on CCTV, and even with the volume on mute she can feel the ricochet of his gunfire, hear the ground-out fury of his voice every time his mouth curls on a snarl.

The cat has taken an interest in the news as well, looking alert as the camera goes blurry around Frank for a moment. Her tail thwips back forth, back again, and then she’s stretching over Karen’s leg, resting her chin on her two front paws. She lets out a low, rumbling purr when the edges of Frank begin to sharpen again, her eyes never leaving the screen.

“Not you, too,” sighs Karen, scratching behind her ears as the footage replays. Frank storms down the street one more time, face set in so much rage. She reaches for the remote, but can’t bring herself to shut it off.

She doesn’t sleep much that night.

When she does dream it’s short, fragmented. Impossible to piece together in a coherent way. Fisk pays her another visit, but in place of the gun this time it’s Frank on his rampage, his outline fuzzy with static, and no sound comes out when he's shouting at her.

“Frank,” she says, and her voice sounds strong as she reaches for him, each time he gets close enough to touch her. “Frank.” But then his footsteps rewind, and he’s running towards her only to backtrack again, over and over without closing any new distance between them.

Karen’s never been one to take stock in dreams, but it feels oddly like foreshadowing, when she un-cuffs him from his hospital bed a few days later.

So make it mean something.

Turns out it never meant anything at all.

…

Karen calls out of work for two days, after that. Hoping that’s enough time to get Frank’s scent out of her skin.

She needn’t have bothered. They would’ve put two and two together, after seeing the news. The shootout on the overpass. The TV reports of Sergeant Mahoney giving interviews from his own hospital bed, staying strangely tight-lipped on the matter of Frank Castle’s escape from his custody.

Karen wears flats to the office, and doesn’t say much under Matt’s own wordless scrutiny, the tight smiles that she knows don’t reach his eyes beneath those darkened frames.

There’s not much to say that hasn’t already been said.

Poor Foggy’s left with the task of mediating the silence between them, telling stories, cracking flat but good-natured jokes about their clientele, finally resorting to asking after Karen’s “She Who Still Has No Name” cat.

“She’s fine,” says Karen, thinking of late nights watching the news, and the content little meow every time Frank’s scowling face appeared back onscreen.

Matt breaks his silence at last, uttering a quiet, “Was it worth it, Karen?” He speaks without slowing the speed of his fingers over the papers in front of him, and the blood floods up to her ears in one deafening rush.

Screw you, Matt.

But then the image of Frank is fighting to the surface again, stumbling forward without daring to touch her in any way before turning his back on her for the last time. I don’t want to. I don’t want to.

It’s impossible to say, in that moment, which of the two has disappointed her more.

Was it worth it, Karen?

“Always.” Her tone is perfectly even, but her heart is pressed tight to the walls of her chest, and she’s not sure even she knows the difference anymore, between the truth and the lie.

…

Karen tells herself a lot of things. That she can’t forgive him so easily this time – if he even gives her the chance not to. And perhaps that’s what burns her more than anything else, that he’s always the one who decides when to show up, with flowers or a burner phone (a broken-sounding Please, and a soft kiss to her cheek that she’d felt there for days afterward). He’s always the one who gets to say no. He’s always the one who does the leaving.

She tells herself it doesn’t matter. There is no more this time, or whatever comes next, not for them. He’d made it quite clear where he stood on the matter.

(At least one of these things is definitely a lie.)

Karen winds up so determined to make it mean nothing, on her own terms, that in retrospect she should have known.

Her cat – Karen’s tentatively started to call her different names in her head, just to get a feel for how they sound – should have clued her in too.

After the newscasters start to run low on fresh Punisher material, her cat takes to sitting by the window for long hours instead, as if he’ll just come strolling around the corner of her block next.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t hold your breath,” Karen mutters, turning away as a garbage compactor rolls down the street.

Mrrow, says her cat, unblinking.

“Don’t look at me like that. I don’t make the damn rules.” Karen sinks into the couch with coffee in hand, a book on something lighthearted in the other. She props her feet on the table, tosses a throw over her knees, and focuses on the forgetting of things for a while.

She starts back awake to a series of clattering sounds, blinking through a haze of sleep and the dim lighting of just-sunset to find her cat pawing animatedly at the window. She catches a flash of something dark in the periphery, so quick she thinks she might have imagined it.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake…” Karen wraps the blanket over her shoulders and drags herself across the room, sighing all the while. She crouches down over the cat, running a hand over her back to calm her. “What did you find, hmm? Was it a big bad raccoon?”

The cat makes a chirping noise, and Karen looks up.

“Definitely not a raccoon,” she breathes, heart slamming up against her rib cage as Frank eases himself down from her fire escape. He opens his mouth, the gravel in his voice smoothed out by the windowpane between them.

She would still know the sound of her name in that voice anywhere.

“Karen. Hey.”

…

She can feel his eyes on her as she moves around the kitchen, trying to remember where she’d last put her bottle opener. Two beers sit unattended on her kitchen island, a bead of sweat dripping down each neck, and when had it gotten so hot in here?

She grips the edge of the counter with both hands, forcing herself to breathe for a moment.

She still can’t bring herself to look at him.

The cat is purring up a storm at his feet, tail brushing over his legs, spine arching in a very clear demand to be picked up.

What did I tell them? Karen can’t help but sigh. No loyalty whatsoever.

“Ah,” grunts Frank, glancing down with a slightly bemused expression, and Karen finds herself holding her breath again, wondering. He’d always struck her as more of a dog person. “Hey, sweetheart.”

His gaze flicks back to hers, searching for any signs of disapproval before he’s bending over, scooping the cat up in one hand.

“Got yourself a guard dog, I take it?” He lets out a low chuckle, lower lip snagging between his teeth as the cat crawls over his chest, rubbing her forehead under his chin. God, what a traitor.

“Yeah.” Karen crosses her arms. “Something like that.”

Frank brings his other hand around to cradle the cat’s shortened back leg. Karen can hear her purring from all the way across the room. “She, uh. She’s a real friendly one, isn’t she.”

Karen’s tone is sharp, pointed. “She’s not that great at deterring intruders.”

Frank drops his head down, nodding to himself for a moment. “Look, I can go, if that’s what you want, Karen, I just. Had to see how you were doing.” The sentiment falls flat and they both know it, a cringe twitching across his features. He surveys the room, and she can see him measuring out the space in his head, all the things still standing between them. He nods again, giving the cat one last scratch to the chin before releasing her. “I’ll go.”

Karen shrugs a shoulder at him, shaking her head. “It’s what you do best, Frank.” The words are out of her mouth before she recognizes the dark place that they’d come from, and the shame of it stops her short.

It’s what you do best, Karen.

Frank knits his brow together, looking more somber than she’s ever seen him, and he turns to leave.

“Wait.” She uncrosses her arms, holds out a hand to him before letting it drop. “Just – wait.” She comes around to the side of the island and stops there, gazing at him, willing him to understand her. She can’t be the one always reaching for him. Not this time. Not anymore.

Frank closes his eyes for a second, draws in an audible breath like he’s searching deep within himself for something. When he looks at her again, he seems to have found it, his expression painfully bare, and she can see every one of his bruises, new cuts that have formed over half-healing scars.

Slowly, he makes his way over to her – less gingerly than he’d needed to at the hospital, but there’s still a carefulness to his movements, like she might decide not to let him any closer, and he wouldn’t blame her for it.

Karen swallows, gestures into the space between their bodies. “What is this, Frank?”

His breath shudders out. His voice is gruff, hoarse like he hasn’t used it in days, and maybe he hasn’t, not in this way. “You mean something. To me.” He redistributes his weight, nudging himself just a little bit closer. She still hasn’t moved.

“God, Karen, I—” Frank shakes his head, mouth pulling upward with a kind of disbelieving laugh. “I did some thinking, after, with the kid, okay, and it made me think, made me realize—”

He breaks off, gaze piercing through hers. His body goes perfectly still, and she knows the effort it’s taking him, knows that it can’t just be nothing, that it never was, after all.

“You might mean more than anything else that there is, and that – that scares me. That terrifies the shit out of me, yeah? That gonna be okay with you, Karen?”

His voice cracks on her name, and suddenly they’re swaying together, her arms coming up to his shoulders to steady him. To steady them both, and it’s messy, it doesn’t un-complicate all of the damaged pieces that don’t fit quite right with them yet, but it’s a start. It’s a start.

Her breathing evens out in time with his, and then she slides her fingers down to gently grasp around his wrists. His palms turn upward, dwarfing her own. He squeezes her back instead of letting go.

“Both hands, right?” she says to him, and he whispers her name like a kiss to her forehead.

…

He eventually falls asleep on the couch, with her copy of The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up still splayed open over his lap. The cat is comfortably dozing away on his chest, his arm draped protectively around the side of her body. The furrow lines between his brows are smooth, relaxed, and there’s no movement behind his eyelids, no tossing and turning like she’d seen at the hospital.

It’s a disarming sight, and for a moment Karen can only stand there, watching the rise-fall-rise of their slumbering, before tucking a blanket over them both.

She lets a hand linger, brushing back some stray hair from Frank’s forehead. The top of it has gotten long, she thinks, with a feeling that she realizes is fondness, and it leaves her chest warm as she starts to tiptoe away from the couch.

Impulsively, she leans back over him before she’s out of range, pressing a light kiss to the square of his bruised-up jaw. He stirs without waking, but the cat blinks up at her for a second, stretching her paws and closing her eyes again when Karen gives her head a gentle little scratch.

“Night, my love,” she whispers, and they’re both shifting, curling into each other as Karen takes another step back. Frank’s nose is half-buried into the cat’s fur now, a deep, sleepy rumble sounding out of his throat, and it’s hard to look away from them, like this might all simply disappear if she does.

Karen forces herself into her bedroom, but she leaves the door open, and she falls asleep to the thought of what this new after could be – just Frank, and this cat, her two broken strays that have made a home out of her heart for good.

…

Fisk is there again, shouting things and threatening violence, but he’s started out farther away this time as he advances toward her, and from this distance, he almost seems small.

“Karen.”

She looks around, confused.

“Karen!”

Something warm closes over her wrist, a phantom touch that she can’t see, but she would recognize the sound of her name in that voice anywhere.

She puts the gun down.

Frank is hunkered over her when she opens her eyes, his gaze troubled and bright in the dark of her bedroom as his mouth forms over her name over and over. “Hey. Y’okay?” He rasps the words out, still bleary with the last remnants of sleep. His hair is standing at an angle on one end, and Karen resists the urge to run her fingers through it.

He helps her sit up, one hand palming the back of her skull, and it’s warm, he’s warm all over, as she leans an arm into the crook of his shoulder. The bed bounces slightly under their weight as he reaches with his other hand, sliding a rough thumb over her elbow, pressing the bridge of his nose to her temple and breathing in deep.

“It’s always the same dream,” she tells him, and she knows he must hear it, the echoing of his own previous words.

Frank licks his lips, hanging his head with something like shame for a moment, as though he wants to ask of her things that he has no right in asking.

“Listen, Karen, I…” He trails his fingers over the soft part of her forearm, before coming to linger down by her wrist. “You were there for me, always are, even when I don’t—” He breaks off again, watching the way their hands twine together. “Guess what I’m trying to say is, if I can be that for you, I’d. I’d really like to give it a shot, yeah?”

Frank looks at her now, face sculpted in moonlight, so vulnerable that Karen aches all over to look back at him. She tightens her grip on his hand. “I’d like that too,” she tells him.

He lands a kiss to her knuckles, tender and careful, warm with the promise of more. She can feel his breath shaking over her skin, cooling the spots his mouth had touched. She rests her head against the slope of his shoulder, eyes drifting closed as he brushes his fingers up and down the side of her arm before finally weaving into her hair again.

There’s movement at the foot of the bed, and a soft chirruping meow as the cat pads over to join them, tail grazing their hands where they’re joined.

“She got a name?”

“Work in progress,” hums Karen. “Kind of thought for a while she would just up and leave at some point, before I got something to stick.”

Frank’s quiet for a moment, mouth skimming back and forth over her hairline. She pictures those lines in his brow creasing again, deep in thought about what she’s said. “That right?”

“Mm.”

He comes to rest with his mouth by her ear, nuzzling a slow little kiss there. “Think it might be time to give her one, then.”

Karen stretches into him, head falling sideways, letting him find her pulse point next. “Think so?”

“Yeah,” Frank murmurs, heat tracking over her skin as he breathes her in like time has no meaning – like he wants to learn all that he can of her, and then keep on going, no end in sight, no war zones, just this. She thinks she’s never wanted anything more either. “Yeah, Karen. I do.”

#kastle #kastleff #kastle ff #kastlenetwork #kastlevalentine #disclaimer #i actually love cats so much

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egotuberwriting · 7 years

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Magic Mishap: Cats?!

I realized as I was writing this that this would be perfect for Day 18 of Egotober. So uh... Late submission for that? ^^;

Anyway, I was inspired by @twenty-third-boos post where someone talked about Marvin accidentally making all the Septic egos cats.

I probably could have done a lot better with this, but seeing as how I have not yet gone to sleep I think this is about as best as I can do. I hope you guys enjoy!

“Alright, time to practice the last spell of the day! You ready, Trixie?” Marvin turned around to look at his pet rabbit, spell book in hand and excitement gleaming in his eyes. He couldn’t help but chuckle as it looked like Trixie shook her head. “Oh don’t be like that, this one will be super cool! I promise!”

Clearing his throat, he stretched his arm outwards and looked at his spellbook to read the spell.

“Unguibus a feline

Dentibus acutis, ut cultris ccxxii

Oculos, activa et ardens

Prope est, in mediam noctem accipit super

Semper tranquillitas, non faciens, multo sonus

Dissimilis canines cuius ululatus est, et impetum concitati ferre

His creaturis fugam omnes insidias et caveis

Pro communi cats es lubricus”

As the last syllable left his lips, smoke started to pour out of the book, much to Marvin’s surprise. He stared at it slack-jawed for a few moments before throwing it onto a table, wondering what the hell was happening. He could have sworn he said the spell right, and he was almost positive that this shouldn’t be happening, so what was going on?!

He immediately made his way to the window in order to open it for the smoke to escape through there, but ended up collapsing just shy of it and started to cough. Desperate to open the window, he stretched his arm out towards it and tried to use his magic to open it, but failed and collapsed again. The last thing he saw before falling unconscious was the smoke escaping through both the crack under his door and into the vent.

The smoke was now circulating throughout the entire septic house.

-A few hours later-

You had just arrived at the Septic House after spending the weekend at your families house. Being really close friends with all of them and even being on decent terms with Anti, you were allowed to live with them if you felt like staying with them. Days were far from normal, but you didn’t mind it. In fact, you actually welcomed it since it gave you a small sense of adventure, despite there being a few days where you didn’t feel like dealing with the crap that goes on.

As you got out your keys and began to unlock the door, you realize that you don’t hear any shouting coming from inside the house, which greatly worried you. Silence usually meant that they were either planning a prank on you, trying to stop Anti from going to war with Dark again by trapping him in the basement, or something went horribly wrong and the whole house was affected.

Taking a deep breath and closing your eyes, you swung the door open and immediately slammed it shut behind you. Expecting the worst, you slowly open your eyes, only to find that… everything looks normal? Well that was unexpected. Shrugging, you take one step forward and almost immediately feel something rubbing against your leg accompanied by purring. When you look down, you see that a purple cat is nuzzling your leg. Right as you’re about to question it, you hear the sound of something running towards you, hissing. Again, it was another cat, except it was a dark green and very fluffy, thanks to being angry. It didn’t take long to figure out what happened while you were gone.

“MARVIN!”

“Mew?”

Looking down again, you see another cat right in front of you. It was another green cat, except the upper half of it’s face was covered in white fur with two red and black spots. You wanted to hit your head against the wall, but figured it would be best to do that later.

“Let me guess; spell gone wrong?” He nods. “Hmm ...If everyone is affected, nod your head. If only a few of you guys were, shake your head.” He nods again.

‘Oh great…’

“I should… probably go see where everyone is and what they look like and gather them all up. Hopefully this spell doesn’t last long...” Sigh. Something seemed to always go majorly wrong when you weren’t home.

As you walked away to go look for the rest of the Septics, Marvin and Anti followed behind you (though Anti was giving the evil eye to Marvin the entire time) and Robbie had climbed up your leg to perch on your shoulder, mainly to continue to nuzzle you. Jackie was the first of the remaining three you found, since he was flying and you both almost literally bumped into each other. He was an orange cat with blue outlining around his eyes and green on the rest of his face. Next up you found Chase thanks to his loud meowing due to… somehow getting stuck in an open cookie jar with what you assumed was nerf darts in it too. He was almost completely green, but had a spot on his head that went down to the back of his neck that was gray. Finally you found Schneep still in his office, but running around and seemingly panicking because he was a cat. He was mostly white with blue fur on the lower half of his face, and on the top of his head. Around his eyes, neck, and paws were all green.

After finding them all, you take them to the living room to figure out what to do next. You honestly didn’t plan this far ahead. Then again, coming home to find that all your friends had turned into cats isn’t something that happens every day.

“Uhh… I don’t know what to do now, guys.” You sat on the couch, allowing Robbie to go onto your lap and let the other egos nuzzle up against you as well. “I mean, we don’t have any cat toys, and I don’t even know what cats can and can’t eat.”

You wanted to ask Marvin how long this spell would last, but seeing as how he couldn’t talk you could only hope that it wouldn’t last a super long time. Running a hand through your hair while lost in thought, you subconsciously start petting Robbie. He purred, but the others became jealous and started to nuzzle your arm so you could pet them instead. You didn’t even realize this until you heard Anti hissing again. Just so he could calm down, you pet him as well, though you try to even out the petting so they all get a chance of being pet and none of them would get grumpy.

When you manage to get free of the cats piling up on you, you go looking for things you could use as toys, like string or boxes; anything to keep them occupied. You had to scold Anti a couple of times because he kept trying to claim everything, but for the most part they acted like normal cats when it came to playing. It was actually kind of cute, but you wouldn’t admit that to them. Before you knew it, nightfall arrived and you were exhausted.

Deciding that it’d be best to sleep in the living room and not your own room, you set up a pillow and a blanket so you could get comfortable after you got ready for bed. Almost all of them slept on top of you, with the only exception being Anti because he felt like sleeping in a box and Robbie because he wanted to sleep under the blanket with you. As cute as these guys were in this state, you hoped that they’d be back to normal tomorrow.

It was easy to tell that the spell had worn off the next morning. You woke up to find the men dogpiled on top of you and it felt like you couldn’t breath. Wiggling only made things worse because Robbie tightened his grip on you since he started to cuddle you when he turned back to normal. Not even trying to wake them up by saying their name worked; apparently they were all just too deep in sleep to hear. You looked over at Anti, about to call him for help, but then decide against it because seeing him curled up in a box was just too funny.

Well, apparently your only option now is to wait until they all wake up and get off of you. Hopefully this wouldn’t take long because you have some questions for Marvin, and because food sounds like a nice thing to have right about now!

#reader insert #Jacksepticeye #Jackieboy Man #Antisepticeye #Robbie the Zombie #Dr Schneeplestein #Marvin the Magnificent #Chase Brody #Egotober #Day 18

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fearofaherobrine · 7 years

Text

Roleplay Server Log #239

"Dolly’s Obsession, Doc and Grinny”

[Zeke] Is taking a walk and wanders near Lie's place-

[Lie] Is returning from Doc's place- Oh, hey Zeke. Enjoying the afternoon sun?

[Zeke] Mmm... Oh! Hello Lie... - His voice is just as melodious as usual, but it's obvious he's concerned.

[Lie] - Is everything okay?

[Zeke] I'm worried about my mom...

[Lie] - What's wrong with her?

[Zeke] Well... it's like this. She started mining and I thought that was great because she's getting into the game. Go native you know? But she's gotten obsessed with the potion brewing. She's acting really starnge.

[Lie] - Potion brewing? I'm not very good at that myself, but how exactly is she acting strange?

[Zeke] It's hard to describe. She seems different, more confident, but in this really hungry, driven way. And she hardly ever leaves her room.

[Lie] - Is she neglecting you at all? Are you okay?

[Zeke] It's not like that. I don't need her to take care of me. I can cook and do laundry and all that. And she's not ignoring me if I try to talk to her. Just kind of.. like patting my head? Sending me out to play?

[Lie] - That doesn't sound right... Every once in awhile sure, but almost everytime?

[Zeke] Does potion brewing usually smell bad?

[Lie] - Depends on who's making it

[Zeke] I know she's keeping the furnaces going at all hours, I can sorta hear the flames when I'm in my room. I don't know what to think.

[Lie] - Do you want me to talk with her?

[Zeke] If you want to try. I already bugged her an hour ago myself and didn't get anywhere.

[Lie] - I'll see what I can do. You can stick around here for now if you want

[Zeke] Do you mind if I hang out with the barn cats for a bit?

[Lie] - Go right ahead. You're welcome in the house to hang out with Hope and the Vulpix's too

[Zeke] Thank you.

[TLOT] Is sitting on the side porch of the castle reading a book and eating cookies with his feet up-

[Lie] Rides up on Beau- Oh, hey TLOT

[TLOT] Waves cheerfully- Morning Lie! Want a cookie?

[Lh] Pads over to the top of the steps - Mow?

[Lie] - No, I'm actually heading down into the lab to talk to Dolly

[TLOT] Really? Why?

[Lie] - Zeke is worried about her, she's been really focused on potion making lately, like a concerning amount apparently

[TLOT] Oh. Do you want some backup?

[Lie] - Sure, just let me get Beau inside Doc's pen

[TLOT] I'll meet you inside- Goes in and LH scampers after him.

[Lh] Leaps onto a fence post and butts agains one of the skeletal horses-

[Lie] Rides in and dismounts before giving Beau an apple and stepping out of the pen- Ready to go?- She's holding her hand out for LH to rub against

[Lh] Bumps her- puuuuuuuuuuuurrrr

[TLOT] Whenever you are. Feel free to just pick him up, he's love-y enough to not care.

[Lie] - Oh I know- She picks LH up and starts heading for the lab

[TLOT] Sniffs as he goes down the stairs- Someone is really burning something.

[Lie] - Yeah, what are they trying to do?

[TLOT] Heads down to Dolly's room and taps on the wall. - Dolly?

-There's a bit of hurried shuffling and the distinct sound of blocks being placed before she comes to the door-

[Dolly] Yes? - Her face shows a lack of sleep and there's a weirdly masculine cast to her posture and the way the torchlight falls on her cheeks.

[Lie] - Hey, is everything okay?

[Dolly] Weirdly intense smile- Of course it is? Why?

[Lie] - Because your son is worried about you

[Dolly] Aww, he's such a thoughtful child. Why is he worried?

[Lie] - Because according to him you've been working relentlessly and even though you pay attention to him when he initiates it, he feels like it's more like "pat on the head, go outside to play" type of thing

[Dolly] Well I have been rather busy, this is true.

[Lie] - You should take a break, you look exhausted

[Dolly] I do? I feel fine. I actually feel healthier then I have in ages. My knees and ankles stopped hurting too. I never thought I'd get to essencially quit my job before becoming a senior citizen, if ever, but this has been so good for me.

[Lie] Gives TLOT a concerned glance-

[TLOT] Is squinting with obvious effort and casually backs away to lean on the big table-

[Lie] - Can we come in Dolly?- She casually puts her hands behind her back and spawns a calming flower, hoping that will get Dolly relaxed enough to realize how tired she is

[Dolly] Why? We can talk just as easily out here.

[Lie] - Alright, then step out so we can sit and talk. Relax a little

[Dolly] Comes out of the room and stands in front of her - What's on your mind Lie?

[Lie] - Concern, my mate is off on his own server to deal with some stuff

[Dolly] Ah, I'm sorry. - her eyes flick ever so slightly back to her space-

[Lie] Her hand goes up to the lockets hanging from her neck- I'm just... Really worried this time around... He thinks it has to do with his NOTCH...

[Dolly] He's strong, and if he fails, his friends and wife will be here to catch him I'm sure.

-Lie starts to feel a little bit of pressure, as if something is pushing her slightly away from Dolly-

[Lie] Frowns a little- Dolly, are you sure everything is alright?

[Dolly] Absolutely! Coming here is the second best thing that's ever happened to me.

[Lie] - If you're sure...

[Dolly] I've never been more sure of anything!

[TLOT] With effort- What.. was the first, best thing?

[Dolly] My son.

[TLOT] Understandable.

[Lie] - Alright, well I suppose we should let you get back to your project...

[Dolly] Absolutely. And it was super talking to you two.

[Lie] - Same to you

[Dolly] Goes back in her room-

[TLOT] Lets out the breath he was holding - shit...

[Lie] - What's wrong?

[TLOT] It's hard to explain... it's like... she's of two minds somehow? I got just a glimpse and then nothing. Just white flames that blocked me from scanning her anymore.

[Lie] Summons her white flames after a brief amount of concentration- Like these?

[TLOT] Yes... It wasn't an attack. Just something shielding her mind.

[Lie] - Weird... Well, if I'm not needed here, I think I'll head home. Unless there's something you need me for?

[TLOT] No, I think I'm going to go rest. That didn't feel too great. My head kinda hurts now.

[Lie] - Okay, I'll see myself out. Oh, and I heard about Notch and Flux, I'm assuming you felt it?

[TLOT] Oh yes.... that was nice. And very overdue.

[Lie] - Talk about a slow burn

[CP] Enters his server in his office and begins preparing to leave when Winston opens the door and enters-

[Winston] - Master, there's something urgent we must discuss

[CP] - Not now Winston

[Winston] - Please sir, you should hear this!

[CP] Pauses- Five minutes Winston

[Winston] Composes himself- Sir, since you've ordered us general to hide away the general mobs have come under attack and are vanishing. We can find no trace of the ones that have disappeared, not even a sign of death

[CP] - Mobs don't just vanish into thin air Winston

[Winston] - I know that sir, which is why I urge you to be careful and perhaps look into this

[CP] - A few mobs disappearing is no major call for concern Winston

[Winston] - It's not a few sir

[CP] Stops what he's doing and turns to face his most trusted general- How many Winston?

[Winston] Seems a bit ashamed- A few hundred sir, in a very short period of time as well

[CP] Sighs- Get me names and I'll look into it

[Winston] Salutes and hurries off to gather the information requested-

[CP] Sits at his desk and pulls up the data for his game and sets it up to search for the vanished mobs. It isn't long before Winston returns and hands him a list of names over several pages of paper-

[Winston] - Here you are Master

[CP] - Thank you, if you can figure out where these new mob leaders usually begin to rise, please do so. It will be of great help

[Winston] - Immediately sir

[Doc] Is searching the house for Grinny-

[Lh] Is sort of helping.

[Grinny] Found a high spot to hide, he's hidden above the dragon head in the vine room-

[Doc] Walks into the room looking around-

[Lh] Bounds in with a small mouse toy in his mouth an spots Grinny, he drops the toy to mew at the other cat-

[Doc] Oh, there you are Grinny!

[Grinny] - Fuck off

[Doc] Ah, don't be so rude. I wanted to check on your fur. Your sweater could probably use a wash too.

[Grinny] Growls a little-

[Doc] Scoots a little closer but still out of swat range- It's taking so long for your hair to grow back. I'm just trying to help.

[Grinny] Presses himself farther back into the corner-

[Doc] Drops a wool block to get a bit higher and climbs onto it. - Grinny.... Don't be like that.

[Grinny] - Go away!

[Doc] Why won't you let me help you? I've been nothing but nice to you. Is there something you need that you don't have?

[[Grinny] Flicks tail in irritation- Yes! Peace and quiet!

[Doc] Is silent for a long moment. In that space, it become apparent how quiet the house actually is. There's the barest crackle from the flaming netherrack on the roof, and the muffled noises of the mobs in the lab far below, but otherwise it's very very quiet. - Is this place really not peaceful enough for you?

[Grinny] - This quiet is worse, reminds me of the labs...

[Doc] I'm sorry Grinny. What they did to you was unforgivable. But... please don't hate me because of it. I'm not that kind of person.

[Lh] Mow?

[Grinny] - Says the one who also works in a lab and experiments!

[Doc] But mostly I just test things out on myself. Unless someone is hurt and needs an emergency fix. Or they request special work.

[Grinny] - It's still a lab!

[Doc] Well, I do have a doctor's office in town...?

[Grinny] Growls and decides to try and slink off to go find Smile-

[Doc] Reaches out and grabs Grinny gently before hopping down off the block. Xe rubs his ears gently. - Come on Grinny. What can I do to convince you of my sincerity?

[Grinny] Struggles- LET GO!

[Doc] Feels him in hir arms and realizes he still needs the sweater. Xe sets his feet down on the fuzzy block but keeps hold of him- I'm just trying to talk to you. Calm down.

[Grinny] Immediately tries to pull away-

[Doc] Give me a decent answer and I'll let go. What do you want from me? Give me a chance.

[Grinny] - Just leave me alone

[Doc] Sighs- I'm here if you change your mind. - Xe lets him go.

[Grinny] Darts off-

[Lh] Runs off as well, hoping to play with Grinny.

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moonshroooms · 7 years

Text

I’m bored and feel like answering random questions

and also no one is gonna ask me them so I’m gonna do it A++

Do you prefer city lights, or stars?

Stars. City lights are pretty since there’s much more color variety, but stars mean you’re probably around nature and less civilization. And city lights mean I have to go somewhere near the city. not my cup of tea. Unless we’re talking about photos. Then stars still win. What is the most romantic thing that's happened to you?

You know I’m not sure if this really qualifies. But one of my close friends had a crush on me, but hadn’t told me yet. I don’t remember the conversation, but I’d said something along the lines of “cause I’m fantastic!” And I’d been walking away and I think I heard him sigh “and beautiful” and I don’t think he really intended for me to hear it (if I did infact hear him right), but I did my brain kinda went ‘wut the faaack’ cause it was really sweet and a little embarrassing to hear. And while I didn’t return his feelings, I kinda think about sometimes and get a little twitterpated.

Describe the image that comes into your head when you see the word "ethereal".

Most often the image that comes to my mind is something of a ghostly creature. I think what creature comes to mind depends on the moment. But they might be white, with just the faintest blue tinge. And whether the blue is from their body or the faint glow around them you aren’t really sure. An eternal mist flowing from their body and dissipating into the air. They have bright eyes that glow stronger than the rest of them. And they move with a slow grace, a calm walk, a flowing movement. And when you lock eyes you’re frozen, and it pierces you. And you can’t describe the emotion that is evoked from their gaze, you only know that it’s strong, and changed something in you, even if it’s only a small thing.

What would someone have to do to earn your trust?

Die.

Describe the outfit you truly want to wear. Anything, a spacesuit, an Elizabethan style gown, a cape made from spider silk, reality doesn't matter.

To be honest, I like a lot of stereotypical ‘jungle warrior woman’ type outfits. Those ones that are basically a bra and a skirt with those leg slits. Kind of like what you see in the Disney move Atlantis. I’m far too self-conscious about showing skin to wear revealing things in my day-to-day life (I think only just started wearing shorts when I was like, 20. And even then I have like 2 pairs and barely wear them). I find it funny that while I could barely bring myself to wear basic shorts, I wear a bikini when swimming. I think that’s attributed to the fact that a lot of people wear skimpy swimwear though, so I feel like I stick out less. But I digress. A ‘shirt’ that goes across the chest, like tropical wear you often see. A really long skirt that’s knee-length or nearly floor-length, but there’s no real sides to the skirt. And like, cool swirly or squarish symbols all over my skin. And I want multiple ones of different colors. Also a robe/robe + hood for when it’s cold and because whipping those around is cool.

What impossible thing do you wish was real?

For me, and anyone I deemed worthy, to have super powers.

What kind of adventure would you like to have?

Something dangerous, something exciting. Traveling amongst nature, having to fend for myself. Exploring new lands, meeting interesting and previously unknown cultures, finding mystical creatures that are truly of magic. Keeping in mind in my adventure I’m perfectly equipped and knowledgeable to handle all of the things and wouldn’t die the second I poked the wrong plant.

What is the worst way for you to die? (In your opinion).

Parasites. OR, being stabbed to death by thousands of dirty and contaminated hospital needles. Just. Things that can eat me that are difficult to punch creep me the frick out. And as for hospital needles: there are so many infections and diseases on those things, and they sit there in their plastic containers. Festering off each other. And as if being stabbed by needles wasn’t enough, if you managed to survive the impaling, your body would fall apart because of the hundreds or thousands of festering plagues you just contracted.

(P.S. the hospital needle horror happened to be spawned from a really good comic called Awful Hospital located right the flip here: http://www.bogleech.com/awfulhospital/intro.html)

Seriously go check it out it’s really good, funny, dramatic, weird, interactive, and (as of May 3, 2017 as I post this), regularly updated!

Can you dance?

No. And I desperately want to. I think I can keep beat, but I have no idea what to do with my legs really. Most of my dancing includes acting out what the mood/lyrics of the song are, or aggressive tribal dancing. Make an obscure reference.

“Greetings my Tallest, it is I, invader Kiiiiish!”

What is your favorite color for a balloon?

Blue looks good on everything.

What store would you be the least likely to be found in?

A weed shop.

Bowties or Ties?

Bowties. They can be on your head or on your neck.

What’s wrong with taking the backstreets?

Being mugged or someone or their dog probably pooped back there and left it.

What is your favorite Pokemon type?

Poison and Dragon (though I like the concept of poison types rather than the actual Pokemon in it. When a poison eeveelution comes out I can die happy). And dragons are just dragons.

What if I told you that you were pretty?

Ikr, thx m8

What turns you on?

Stomachs, sour punch straws.

Sign?

Scorpio! :D

Who is your OTP?

Kisshu x Ichigi from Tokyo Mew Mew, and yes I know they’re unhealthy, dysfunctional, and also not canon, but dammit they were my first OTP and remain stubbornly at the top after all these years. They are my guilt OTP.

Shion x Nezumi from No. 6. Best part is I went into No. 6 not reading the description and going in completely clueless, so their romance blindsided me. Either way they’re just really cute and I’m not sure why I like them better than some older ships I like.

If you could dye your hair any color right now, what would it be?

A sunset gradient or a silver/blue gradient!

Put your songs on shuffle, and tell me the first song that plays.

What Can I Do For You? - Steven Universe

How do you compare to people’s expectations of you?

I fail them completely.

A fictional character you familiarize yourself with.

Rin and Razo from the Books of Bayern (Forest Born and River Secrets are their books specifically).

Favorite Animal?

I’ve been in love with beluga whales for my whole life. White lions are a close second!

Name a few of your insecurities.

Whether or not people think I’m stupid, and whether I am intelligent or not. Being myself, because I fear people would find me annoying. My opinions on the world, and if others would view them as childish or ignorant or naive. Mostly just a lot of how others view me.

What brings out a mean streak in you?

People that slight me.

Describe a person who would be the polar opposite to yourself.

Confident, social, aggressive, forgiving, outgoing, worldly, a people-person, strict, self-righteous, noticeable, impressive, rebellious, happy.

Have you ever helped/rescued a wild animal in trouble?

When I was younger my cat brought in a lot of animals she hunted as gifts. I did my best to nurse them back to health (mostly lizards. Anything warm-blooded was dead if she brought it back). Some lived, some didn’t and I was always happy to watch them zip back into the wild like a bullet.

Describe the backstory for a character you’ve created.

A siren who comes across a werewolf child she takes interest in and befriends. Through some ups and down she decides she won’t eat the souls of humans anymore, despite the fact that means she also gives up living forever and growing new powers/strengths as a result. If/when that kid dies, however, she plans on going straight back into her old ways. She believes that she is an inherently evil creature, and no amount of pretending to be good will ever change that.

What’s your signature scent?

Cherry Blossom lotions/perfumes, mint chapstick.

Favorite school subject?

Science, P.E.

What is the closest framed picture around you a picture of?

My late cat, Princess.

The first thing you notice about the opposite sex?

Their face.

Is cheating ever okay?

No.

What’s a nickname only your family calls you?

Peanut. Cause apparently when I was born I was shaped like a peanut.

What was your first stuffed animal and it’s name?

Probably not the ‘first’ per-say, but the first I remember was a big, sparkly, rainbow, beanie-filled boa constrictor that I named Bo-Rainbow. I still have him to this day :’D

Whats drink you always order at Starbucks?

Water.

Do you sleep with your closet doors open or closed?

Whatever position I happened to leave it in.

Do you sleep with your sheets tucked in or out?

No sheets, useless piece of fabric and makes the bed to hot >3<!

Do you have freckles?

Kinda? Not typical freckles, but a few sun-kisses on the right side of my face and on random spots on my body.

What size is your bed?

Twin.

Ever used a gun?

Yes, a few times! But thankfully not against anything living!

Can you curl your tongue?

Yup, yup!

Are you open about your feelings?

Depends on the feelings. Usually no.

If you could choose between being able to play any instrument in the world, or being able to speak any language, which would you choose?

Speak any language. Singing’s the only instrument I like!

#personal #ramble #about me

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